


Home Run

by tomxdaya



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Fluff and Smut, But it’s a secret, Casual Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Michelle Jones is a Little Shit, Mutual Pining, Peter Parker is a Mess, Smut, Swearing, They’re both in love your honor, This is dedicated to my favorite petermj writers on ao3, for sex of course, practicing, unless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27810868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomxdaya/pseuds/tomxdaya
Summary: “So what, you want to, like, lose your virginity to a random person before you hook up with Brad? Or?”MJ bites her lip. “No. Uh, actually, I was thinking I should...practice this stuff. So I know what I’m doing before I sleep with him.”Peter clears his throat. “Okay, so how are you gonna do that?”“You. With you.”
Relationships: Betty Brant & Michelle Jones, Betty Brant/Ned Leeds, Brad Davis/Michelle Jones, Felicia Hardy/Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker
Comments: 29
Kudos: 127





	1. first base

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Machiavelien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Machiavelien/gifts), [spideysmjs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideysmjs/gifts).



Michelle Jones slams the door to her shitty student apartment behind her, sighing in frustration and heading straight for her room. 

Today had sucked, and she needed to talk to Peter immediately. He always knew what to do, and MJ was eternally grateful and also a little bit infuriated that her best friend was a genius and that she boosted his male ego every time she went to him for advice. 

MJ and Peter had been friends since their freshman year of high school, when they’d been the only ninth graders recruited to the Academic Decathalon. While Peter and Ned hit it off instantly, MJ’s complete lack of social skills had prevented her from getting close to them. Then her mom had died, and it got worse, and Peter and Ned were the only people that had made her feel cared about. So, she’d made the conscious decision to care about them, too. 

They’d brought her out of her shell, and with all three of them at NYU now, she felt like she finally had a healthy support system and a good social life. So when she had a situation that involved the opposite sex, she’d talk to Peter. Granted, this rarely happened, because Michelle was never really a crush person, but college had presented immature, egotistical men in a different light. 

“Peter.” She grimaces the second he picks up her FaceTime call. “I have a situation.”

He had answered the call in the middle of an enormous bite of pizza, chewing messily and scraping sauce off the side of his face. He finally looks up from the precious meal and mumbles,  
“What is it, Em?”

“There’s this dude named Brad in my Intro to News Journalism class, and he’s expressed...interest...in me.”

Peter snorted. “Okay, so what’s the issue?”

“The issue, uh, well.” She hesitates. “He’s a junior. And he has sort of a reputation. You know.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. A quarter of the sophomores and juniors have definitely seen this guy’s dick, and while I’m not one to care about body count, I need to know I’m not disappointing him.”

Peter scoffs. “MJ, if this ‘Brad’ is interested in you, it’s not because of your ‘sexual charm’ and ‘way with men’.”

She squints her eyes and gives him a pointed look. 

“Em, that’s not what I meant. But what I’m saying is, this guy seems like he tends to go for girls that — in the least sexist way possible — throw themselves at him.”

“I’m not like that.”

“I know. That means he probably really likes you.”

“Okay, but if that’s the case and it goes where I want it to go, I’m not gonna know what to do! He’s probably received more blowjobs than a Hollywood movie star and I’ve never even touched a dick. This is, like, bad news.”

Peter laughs on the other end of the screen. “So what, you want to, like, lose your virginity to a random person before you hook up with Brad? Or?”

MJ bites her lip. “No. Uh, actually, I was thinking I should...practice this stuff. So I know what I’m doing before I sleep with him.”

Peter clears his throat. “Okay, so how are you gonna do that?”

“You. With you.” She says a little too bluntly and watches Peter choke on his current bite of pepperoni pizza. 

“You want to—“ he coughs loudly. “You want to what?”

“I want to get good at sex. And other sexual shit. Like all the bases. You know what I mean.”

“No, Michelle, I don’t. What the fuck?”

She looks down, embarrassed. “Sorry I brought it up. It was a stupid idea.”

“Mich-“

“I have to go though. Bye!”

She hangs up the phone clumsily and tosses it onto her bed. Aggravated, she falls back onto it. Why the fuck did she have to ruin things with Peter? Why was her honesty always getting in the way of her happiness? Why —

Her phone dings, and a notification that Peter sent a message appears. She groans, opening it tersely. 

Pete: I didn’t mean to freak out like that. Just didn’t know what u meant. I’m not opposed to the idea lmao, there’s this girl in chem that I sort of like. It could be, yk, mutually beneficial. Or something

She stares at the text for far too long, sure the read receipt has been glaring at him on the other side of the conversation long enough to make him anxious. She types out a two word response, then presses ‘send’.

Or something. 

She knows Peter isn’t a virgin, that Gwen Stacy had been far too crazy about him their senior year of high school to not have sex with him. But he isn’t experienced, at all. It could help them both…get out of their comfort zones, per say, and shit, maybe she’d get to hook up with the stupid, brilliant, weirdo she’s always had a tiny crush on. Win win win, right?

She hears another ding, and turns to look at her phone again anxiously. 

Pete: Wanna hang out tomorrow? We can talk about it then. Think of it as a business meeting. Lol

She chuckles and sends a quick thumbs up and a ‘my place at 7’ before shutting her phone off and heading toward the shower. 

—

Peter knocks gently on MJ’s rundown front door, waiting approximately three seconds before he sees his disheveled best friend wearing a dusty apron, a smudge of flour on her face, and a bit in her hair. She smiles brightly before moving away from the door, letting him enter her apartment. 

He looks around the messy kitchen and grins, turning back to her as she hastily closes the door. 

“Before you say anything, I know. I tried making you a fucking pie. It failed. But you're welcome for my generosity.”

He snorts, glancing at the burnt blueberry pie on the counter. “Thanks, Em. Don’t try that again.”

She gives him a mischievous look, despite their upcoming conversation. “Fine.” She gestures for him to sit on her lumpy sofa, bringing him his regular Dr. Pepper she’d had ready in the front of her fridge. 

“‘K, Parker. What questions do you got for me?”

He clears his throat. “Questions? Um, nothing specific. Just like, how does this even work?”

“I don’t know. I mean, we could start with the easy stuff? We’ve both kissed people, but like, not in awhile.”

He nods. “Yeah, yeah, that works.”

She looks at him, surprised. “No suggestions, no rebuttals, no hesitations? This isn’t very Peter Parker of you.”

He laughs breathlessly, glancing at her still-smudged face, raking a hand through his unruly hair. “No, actually, I uh...this is for you.”

MJ gives him a weird look before moving his way and sitting beside him on the sofa. “Okay, then, Mr. Selfless, show me what you got.”

Peter barely has any time to process a rational thought before her lips are on his, and any previous logical reaction he could have had is thrown out the window. 

Because Michelle Jones is kissing him, and perfectly, at that. He moves a hand into her hair instinctively and finally starts kissing her back, tongue slipping against hers as she moans into his mouth involuntarily. She’s automatically moving across his lap and sitting above him, reconnecting their lips again and again and before they know it, twenty minutes have passed and Peter can feel the exact moment that MJ feels his erection pressed uncomfortably against her. 

She sits up fully and quickly removes herself from his lap, readjusting her apron and twisting the tie on her low ponytail. “Good, uh, good practice! It was nice. Thanks, Parker. I gotta do homework now. In the library. With Betty.”

Peter nods awkwardly. “Right! Uh, yeah. I’m sure Ned has a Mandalorian episode he’s been wanting to watch.” He shifts and stands up quickly. “I’ll just be going then.”

MJ smiles gratefully at him. “Bye, Pete.”

The second he shuts the door behind him, he lets out the breath he’d been holding for god knows how long and whispers, “What the fuck?!”


	2. second base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MJ aggressively brushes her teeth, glancing at the clock quickly before turning back to the mirror and glaring at her unruly curls that she’d stuffed into a low ponytail. It was 7:50pm, and she really shouldn’t have procrastinated this much when it came to getting ready for her...appointment with Peter. 
> 
> The problem was, the second she’d kissed him, all the little feelings and thoughts that she’d had for him had been instantly magnified by, like, forty-five. She doesn’t know what to do with herself. If her and Peter carried on, would they get worse? Or was this the perfect solution to her crush on the one person that she couldn’t have?

MJ stares at the blank document in front of her, tapping her fingers anxiously on the keyboard. Betty sighs and looks up from her laptop, closing it loudly and looking at her across the library table. 

“What is it, Em?”

“What’s what?”

Betty rolls her eyes, making a face at MJ. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re never like this during our study sessions. Especially when we’re annotating historical theory. That’s your best subject, c’mon, MJ. I’m not stupid.”

MJ takes a deep breath, giving her a quick glare. “It’s Peter.”

“What about him?”

“We made out.” She coughs.

Betty gasps loudly as the librarian ten feet away from them gives them the evil eye and hushes her. “Sorry!” She whisper-shouts to her. Turning back to MJ, her mouth falls open and she grabs her shoulder. “You fucking hooked up with Peter? Best friend Peter?”

MJ shushes her, even though Betty was being as quiet as she could. “It’s not like that. Hooked up? It’s -- we haven’t even had sex. Yet.”

Betty’s hand flies up to cover her mouth. “Yet?” She whispers.

“Listen, it’s a long story. But I told him I wanted to… to practice sex. And everything else. For Brad!” She adds when Betty gives her a weird look. 

“Why would you go to Peter for that?”

“He’s my best friend. He’s the only person I felt even remotely comfortable asking.”

Betty shakes her head. “That’s not the reason,” she smirks.

MJ glares her way, closing her laptop too. “Oh? Then tell me what is, you smartass.”

Betty grins. “It’s because you’re in love with him, and this is a way to finally sleep with him without having to act like, you know, a human being with emotions, and...feelings…”

MJ smacks her shoulder. “That is absolutely incorrect. Peter’s the only one that wouldn’t ever make it weird. Besides,” she adds, “he’s the last person I’d ever have feelings for. Peter? The one with an over-the-line Star Wars obsession, an addiction to fuzzy socks, and a time management problem?”

Her friend snorts next to her as she continues. “Even if he was, like, the most eligible bachelor on earth, he’s the goddamn messiest eater I’ve ever seen. And he’s a fucking Leo. I’m not into a Leo man. That’s embarrassing.”

“Uh huh. Mmm. Yep.” Betty nods sarcastically.

MJ throws her a dirty look. “Drop it.”

“You first.”

\--

Peter’s phone buzzes next to him as he rinses off his toothbrush. 

Guy-in-the-chair: YOOO YOU FINALLY DID IT

Peter stares at the screen for way too long. 

What? He sends back.

Guy-in-the-chair: MJ!! you finally did mj!!!!!

wtf are u talking about??

Guy-in-the-chair: betty told me, dude. I know it’s like a fwb thing but still!!!!!!

Peter sighs, frustrated, before he hears another buzz. He readies himself for another bombardment by Ned, but to his surprise, the text is from MJ.

Em: My place at 8 tonight?

And suddenly, he’s in a great mood. 

\--

MJ aggressively brushes her teeth, glancing at the clock quickly before turning back to the mirror and glaring at her unruly curls that she’d stuffed into a low ponytail. It was 7:50pm, and she really shouldn’t have procrastinated this much when it came to getting ready for her...appointment with Peter. 

The problem was, the second she’d kissed him, all the little feelings and thoughts that she’d had for him had been instantly magnified by, like, forty-five. She doesn’t know what to do with herself. If her and Peter carried on, would they get worse? Or was this the perfect solution to her crush on the one person that she couldn’t have? 

She doesn’t know. Doesn’t care. It’s just practice, for the handsome Brad Davis that had asked her for her favorite Nora Roberts mystery novel so he could get started on her work. He’s the one that drinks the same tea as her, honey citrus mint, and plays sudoku with her when their classes got boring.

And yet, as she sets her toothbrush down after furiously rinsing it off, she can’t help but think about Peter Parker. She’s lucky to have him in her life, and god knows he’s probably luckier to have her. The amount of AP Lit essays he would have missed in high school is astounding, and MJ knows that he wouldn’t have gotten this far at NYU without her. As she brushes her stray curls aside, she takes a deep breath and strides out of her dimly lit bathroom with seemingly perfect timing as a knock on the door shudders through the creaky flat.

“Hey!” Peter says giddily as she opens the door. “I brought you cocoa.”

She inwardly melts, although Peter would never find that out. “Thanks, weirdo. Which kind this time?”

“This one’s a…” he checks the label on the round can. “Ooh! A dark chocolate peppermint.”

She grins, taking the cocoa from him. “Nice. I think that’s the only kind I don’t have at this point.”

“True,” he smirks, eyeing her powdered collection that sits on top of her small fridge. “Try that, and I’ll be having my usual.” He stands on his tip-toes and grips the caramel mocha can, setting it down onto the counter and popping off the lid. He glances over at MJ and shoots her a confused look. “What’s up?”

MJ hadn’t realized she’d been staring, shaking her head and giving her best non-chalant answer, “I’m just observing that you didn’t wear your platform sneakers today. You had to really reach to grab that hot chocolate. You’re getting shorter, I think.”

He laughs carelessly and swipes at her shoulder. “Shut up. Like you haven’t grown five inches since last semester.”

He opens her fridge and grasps the milk, getting his favorite mug from her cup cabinet and pouring a good amount inside it. “So what do you-” 

He’s cut off by MJ gripping his jaw and pressing her lips to his, a shiver going through both of them simultaneously as he mumbles through insistent kisses - “So...hot chocolate later...got it.” He grins into her lips as he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands to her face and directing her toward that damn lumpy sofa that had started this all. 

They fall onto the furniture, MJ crawling into his lap again (her new favorite spot, she decides) as she subconsciously grinds down onto the ever-growing tent in his sweatpants.

“Michelle,” he sighs, lowering his mouth to her jaw, then her neck, then her collarbone as she whimpers above him. Time, she realizes, doesn’t seem to exist when Peter’s within two inches of her lips. And she doesn’t care. 

She shrugs off her zip-up hoodie, leaving herself in a tank top and Peter’s joggers that she’d strategically stolen from him on their last movie night with May and Ned. He looks surprised, she notes, but she finds that amusing. She’d like to see him surprised by her more often. 

After kissing him for a few more minutes, getting Peter to finally grab her hips and expertly move them against his sweats, she slides her hand down his torso and grips the edge of his thin white t-shirt, tugging it upwards and watching as Peter eventually gets it and sits up to lift his shirt off and throw it across her shitty excuse for a living room. And fucking finally, her best friend’s terrible, terrible muscular chest and shocking abs are presented to her in a fitting fashion. She leans back, admiring his upper body for a second, and then making quick eye contact. “I’m not objectifying you, I swear. Seeing all this,” she motions to said upper body, “in this context is really unexpected and I-” she’s interrupted by Peter smirking and pulling her back onto his lips.

She moves her mouth down to his neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there before gliding her tongue gently to the top of his chest. Peter grips her hair, unintentionally aggressively, and all MJ can think about is how he’s not doing it aggressively enough. If that’s a taste of what he’s like in bed, she’s truly, truly done for. 

“Peter?” She pulls away for a second, looking down at him as they both catch their breath. “Peter, do you wanna touch me?”

Peter’s eyes seem to bug out of their sockets, and he nods frantically. “Where, uh, where do you want me to…”

She grabs his hands and moves them to her breasts, hands over his over the thin fabric that she calls a tank top. “Here,” she says softly. 

He nods again, moving her hands away from her own chest, guiding them to his hair awkwardly. “I, um, I like hair pulling. Just an FYI.”

If there was ever an inappropriate time to laugh at him, it was now. But she can’t help the amused giggle that jumps out of her, smiling down at him. “God, of course you do.” 

And suddenly her giggling is cut off by Peter moving his hands back to her breasts, cautiously massaging them as he watches her eyes flutter close and a whimper escape her softly parted lips. Gaining confidence, he grips them a little harder, pinching one of her nipples lightly, causing her to squirm in his lap. The small movement goes straight to his dick, and he guesses the cause is paired with the small moans that she’s letting out, eyes squeezed shut. 

“You like that?” She nods quickly.

“Peter, can you…”

“Can I what?” He questions, hands still working her chest. 

“God, can you, you know,” she gives him the best knowing look she can. 

He looks confused, and then he understands. But selfishly, he wants to hear her say it. “Can I what?”

“I want your fingers on me,” she breathes. “Please, Peter.”

Even though he knew that’s what she wanted, he’s still shocked to hear the words come out of her mouth. Her gorgeous mouth that made him feel things that no one else ever had.

“Okay,” he replies simply. “Are you sure?”

She nods, gripping his hair again as he moves a hand down to the waistband of her (his) joggers. 

He stands up, taking her with him, and flips them over so she’s laying beneath him on her couch. Standing up again, he places his hands back on her waistband, hesitantly pulling the stupid, useless fabric down her legs. “Have you done this before?” He asks.

“No,” she whispers. “So go easy on me.” She lets out a laugh, trying desperately to ease the tension that hung in the air too obviously.

He nods, giving her a reassuring smile as he continues to guide the cotton down until he can wiggle it off her feet. And then, he’s making eye contact with a surprising pair of lacy light blue panties. Please, god, don’t let him fuck this up. 

So he goes for it. 

MJ gasps quietly as he gives a whisper of a stroke down the front of the lace with his thumb, bringing it back up to feel the swollen nub through the pathetic fabric. He feels her shiver as he grips the edge of the panties and slides them down her legs to follow the joggers. “Tell me if you need me to stop, or if it hurts, or anything.” He whispers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She props herself up on her elbows to run her fingers through his hair. “I will.” She says with a quiet smile. 

And then he’s sliding a lone finger from her entrance to her clit, making her lips part quickly as she falls back onto the couch. He swipes it through her arousal before adding another finger and skating them across her clit. He hesitates near her entrance again, looking up to make sure she’s okay. He feels weirdly smug when he notices the wrecked expression on her face as she wiggles her hips in impatience and anticipation. 

So, he does what she wants.

He slides his finger in carefully as MJ’s head drops back in a moan. Gaining confidence, he makes sure she’s adjusted enough before adding another finger and sliding them out, and pushing them back in. Again, and again, and again. Her noises of appreciation spur him on and he adds the pad of his thumb to rub at her clit.

Things are building for her quickly, he can tell, and he gets the genius idea to crook the fingers that are fucking her ever so slightly. Her back jumps off the bed and she lets out a sob. “Oh, my god,” she cries out. “Keep going, you idiot!” She grumbles in frustration when Peter stops quickly to make sure her cry wasn’t one of pain. He continues, adding more pressure, crooking his fingers a little bit more, and then all of the sudden…”God, fuck, Peter!” ...she’s there. 

He keeps the pressure at her clit as she comes down from her high, shivering and completely out of breath. “Good - Jesus - good job,” she pants, giving Peter a lame thumbs up as he chuckles and slips his fingers out of her awkwardly. 

“I’m just gonna, uh,” he stumbles, glancing at his MJ-covered fingers and then back to her. 

“Oh god, uh, yeah, just use the sink in the bathroom.” She motions to the tile covered side room. 

After he’s done rinsing off his fingers, he re-enters the living room to see her squirming back into the joggers, adjusting her tank top and smiling at him hesitantly. “Uh, wanna watch the Mandalorian?”

Such a change of focus could have been fucking odd for anyone else, but for them, he decides, it’s fitting. He shrugs his shoulders. “Ned’s gonna be mad as hell, but honestly? That sounds great.”

She chuckles and replies, “Okay, cool. Let me just shower and I’ll-”

“Yeah, yeah, just meet me back here and I’ll get an episode going.”

As she wanders into the bathroom, he grabs the remote and tries to focus on opening her Disney Plus account. He can’t. 

And as MJ falls asleep on his shoulder after three episodes, he’s come to a very obvious and disappointing conclusion: he’s absolutely fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!!! thank you for reading! i'd love to hear your questions, comments, & concerns in the comments below! so sorry i haven't updated in like a week and a half lmao


	3. left field

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As MJ walks back to her apartment, she laughs at the thought that she was finally getting to go on a date with the very person that she was hooking up with her best friend for. It's a weird feeling, and she dreads, for some reason, having to tell Peter. She knows he’ll be excited for her, happy that their couple of practice sessions will be paying off. And yet, she somehow feels like she’s...letting him down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to leave any constructive criticism, requests, and comments you have below! i love reading them and your reactions fuel this fic. thank you so much for reading it!

“Alright, kids, you’re free to go,” Professor Dell waves his hands in dismissal. “Just remember to do the reading, pages 359 through 382! Have a great weekend.” 

MJ closes her laptop and gathers her textbooks, shoving them into her shoulder bag. A tap on her tiny desk gets her attention, and she looks up to see Brad Davis smiling in front of her. She grins back and tucks her hair behind her ear shyly. “Hey, Brad.”

“Michelle,” he says, taking a deep breath almost...nervously? “I have a question.” 

“Okay?”

“Do you, uh.” Brad looks down. She’s never seen him nervous before. This was the guy that the entire university is in love with, who has all the charm in the world, and probably has half the staff swooning over him. “Do you want to go out with me Saturday night?”

MJ nods understandingly. Of course he’s nervous. She doesn’t think he’s asked anyone out before. As much of a female magnet as he was, he was known for getting random women from the ages of nineteen to twenty-seven into his bed and never talking to them after the fact. 

“Yes,” she breathes, chuckling a little bit. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Okay, cool! I’ll, uh, pick you up at eight?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

As MJ walks back to her apartment, she laughs at the thought that she was finally getting to go on a date with the very person that she was hooking up with her best friend for. It's a weird feeling, and she dreads, for some reason, having to tell Peter. She knows he’ll be excited for her, happy that their couple of practice sessions will be paying off. And yet, she somehow feels like she’s...letting him down.

***

Peter smiles widely and drops his backpack on his bedroom floor when his phone dings with a text from MJ. The last time he’d seen her was on Tuesday and they’d never gone this long without seeing each other. Three days was awhile. He should invite her to come over tomorrow night. Picking up his phone, and secretly hoping it’s about you-know-what, he opens his messages app and taps on MJ’s name. 

MJ: Brad just asked me out. Finally, lol. We’re going out tomorrow :)

Oh. 

He types out a quick response and sends it, sighing and tossing his phone onto the counter. 

that’s great, mj

He huffs out a small chuckle. Why was he sad all of the sudden? Why wasn’t he happy for her? Why was he feeling so much anger towards this Brad Davis that he’d never even met?

He doesn’t know, but he knows that if MJ’s practice with him is paying off, so should his. So he finally opens a contact that he hasn’t even looked at in a week. 

“Hey, Felicia.” He says warmly as soon as she picks up the phone. He hears a flirty giggle on the other end of the line. 

“If it isn’t Peter Parker. I didn’t think you’d ever call.”

He met Felicia Hardy in Chemistry II, assigned her lab partner on the first day of the semester. Felicia was smart, gorgeous, and had more confidence and charm than half of NYU combined. Every guy on campus was in love with her, and when she’d slyly pulled Peter’s phone out of his front pocket a few weeks in and typed in her phone number, he’d been surprised, to say the least. She’d winked at him and said, “Call me,” in that flirty, assertive tone of hers. 

Peter was so thankful when MJ suggested practicing all things sex, because he knew Felicia was anything but inexperienced like he was. So as nervous as he feels inviting her over, he knows that he’ll be a lot more prepared than he was before MJ. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I have work in the morning, but I’m free after that.”

“Come over.” He breathes, waiting apprehensively for her response.

“Forward, I like it. What time?”

“Uh, nine. I’ll send you the address.”

“Deal, Parker.”

As excited as he feels, getting to hook up with the hottest girl in the entire school, he’s irritated. He doesn’t know why. MJ’s the only one who’s ever called him by his last name, and it feels wrong to hear it from Felicia’s lips. It doesn’t suit her, or their dynamic. At all. 

***

MJ hears a knock on her door just as she’s adjusting her simple floral dress she’d picked for the occasion. Brad wanted to take her to this nice Italian restaurant near campus, Il Mulino, and she’d struggled to pick something out that would match whatever he was surely gonna wear.   
She smoothes out her dress one last time, glances quickly at the mirror, and takes the ten steps to open the front door. “Hey, Brad.” She says.

“Michelle!” He exclaims, leaning forward to give her a hug. “How are you?” 

“Uh, good! You ready?”

“Yep,” he grins, letting her come out of the apartment and lock her door before following her to the stairs. 

***

Peter opens the door to reveal a smirking Felicia Hardy, dressed in a black tank top and gray leggings. He swallows hard as he notices that the top leaves very little to the imagination, and he’s suddenly more intimidated than he ever has been. “Wanna watch a movie?” He gulps out as she floats around his tiny kitchen. 

“As long as it’s not one of those weird space movies, yeah.” She grins. He feels a little let down, and although he knows she’s just here for sex, he humorously wonders when he’s supposed to tell her that his favorite movies include literally every single Star Wars. 

Peter leads her to his cramped living area as he turns on the TV, opening Netflix and flicking through the available movies. “There’s a lot of those early 2000s rom coms on here,” he explains, glancing over at her as she tantalizingly stretches out on his couch. 

“Put one on, then.”

He picks a random movie, turns it on, and cautiously seats himself next to her. Before the first word in the film is even said, she reaches over, pulling his chin towards her and pressing her lips against his.

His first thought is that it feels wrong. 

What the fuck? He’s making out with NYU’s brightest bombshell and he’s not automatically erect? Something’s wrong. If only he knew what the fuck it was. 

Felicia slips her tongue past his lips, smiling into the kiss as she moves to straddle his lap. “You’re a great kisser,” she murmurs against his mouth, breathing slowly as her hands come up to frame his face. After a few minutes of the same exact thing, she pulls back with a look of confusion. “Are you not into this?”

“What? Yeah, of course I am. Why?” Peter replies, trying to hide his obvious embarrassment.

“I don’t know, you’re just, like,” she huffs frustratedly, “you’re not doing anything.”  
Peter sits up fully and yanks her back onto his lips. “Trust me, I’m into this,” he mumbles. He picks Felicia up, turning them around and laying them onto the couch, resting on top of her. He hears her groan as she wraps her legs around his back, grinding her hips into his. Their lips meet over and over again, the kiss intensifying, and even though he’s with Felicia, all he can think about is MJ.

MJ, who’s on a fancy ass date with Brad fucking Davis. 

MJ, who’s moans he hears instead of Felicia’s. 

MJ, who’s occupied his thoughts and time since he met her, but especially in these last couple of weeks. He misses her. It’s been four days since he last saw her. He misses her so much.

And guiltily, unintentionally, he imagines it’s MJ who’s pinned beneath him, her tongue in his mouth. But his imagination doesn’t get far because he knows that MJ would never be this aggressive. Kissing her feels like a walk on the beach on a summer evening, gentle and calm, and the thought makes kissing Felicia feel uncomfortable. 

He misses MJ. 

Just as Felicia pulls back and reaches down to fumble with the button on his jeans, he’s pushing himself off of her and standing up, breathing hard as he shakes his head. “I can’t do this.”

“What are you talking about?” She says impatiently, reaching again for his jeans, causing him to take another step back. “Yes you can. You invited me here, Parker.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What the fuck? What’s wrong?” She’s not happy, and Peter genuinely feels sorry for her. He knows it’s his fault and he tells her as much. But before he can even try to explain himself, she’s standing up and grabbing her purse from his kitchen counter. “Whatever.” 

And then she’s gone, shutting the door angrily behind her. 

Peter groans out loud, and rubs his forehead in thought. Why the fuck had MJ been the first thought on his mind while making out with the very person that he’s been practicing with her for? It makes no sense. He guesses it’s because she was the last person he’d been in this sort of situation. 

But for some reason, that doesn’t feel right either. 

***

“Thank you, Brad, I had a nice time.” MJ smiles up at him. He winks before tucking her hair behind her ear. 

“Thanks for coming. So did I. I don’t do this very often,” he laughs. 

She unbuckles her seatbelt, grabbing her keys as she reaches for the passenger door. 

“Wait, uh, MJ-” 

She turns back to him and all of the sudden, he’s kissing her, and bringing his hands to her face. She smiles into the kiss, and kisses him back insistently, raking her hand through his hair. Pulling back after a minute, MJ bites her lip and finally opens the door. 

“I’ll see you in class, Brad.” She says, hopping out of his car and heading into her apartment building. Anddd mission accomplished! 

Some time later, her phone dings as she sets down her moisturizer, getting ready for bed. 

Pete: how was the date?

MJ: So, so good. He kissed me, and I think we’re gonna go out again soon

Pete: that’s good. I hung out with felicia

MJ: So we both scored. Did you guys hook up?

Pete: not exactly. I’ll tell you later

MJ: You know what that means, right? Another sesh. Lol. 

Pete is typing…

And two minutes later, the same message: Pete is typing….

And then finally:

Pete: yeah

***

“Is something wrong?” MJ asks, glancing at Peter as they study for their respective literature classes in her living room.

“No, why?” He replies, making guilty eye contact with her.  
She sighs, twisting her curls into a low bun and securing it with the band on her wrist. “I don’t know, you’ve just been acting weird. Since, like, Saturday.” 

He sits up straighter, shaking his head a little too quickly to be convincing. “No, I’ve just been, uh, stressed.” 

“Uh huh, yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Want some, you know, stress relief?” 

He chuckles, shutting his computer. “I mean, y-” he pauses. He remembers back to Saturday night, and how plagued his mind was with Michelle Jones. How he couldn’t even do anything with Felicia without thinking of her lips first. 

“Shit, actually, I have to go. I have, uh, a thing with May.”

MJ squints her eyes at him. “I know you’re bullshitting me right now, but I don’t care enough to know why. Have fun with your aunt.”

The second Peter leaves, MJ feels a pit in her stomach and a lump in her throat. Did Peter hook up with Felicia and decide that he didn’t want anything with her anymore? Was Felicia some kind of sex goddess or something? And most importantly, why did it feel like she was stealing Peter away from her, and why did it matter?

MJ falls asleep that night filled with anxiety and a fuck ton of insecurity, Peter being the very last thing on her mind.


	4. third base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know,” MJ remarks. “I could help you with that.”
> 
> Peter’s confused. “With what?”
> 
> “I could help you practice not busting a nut in under a minute.” She replies bluntly. 
> 
> He’s choking on the large gulp of cocoa he’s decided to down at the wrong second. He stands up quickly to grab paper towels, dabbing at his shirt where some of the cocoa spilled hurriedly. She follows him to the kitchen and waits, amused, for him to calm down, coughing sporadically before speaking again. “That’s what we’re doing, right? And if you’re worried about it…” she trails off, leaving the last part of the sentence implied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! i’m so sorry it took me a month to update this! it won’t be this long again, the holidays were crazy, so forgive me :/ but enjoy this chapter, and please leave comments! they’re the best part about writing these fics.

Peter sits in defeat on his bed back in his bedroom. He doesn’t know why he walked out on MJ like that, but something about being there after she’d gone out with Brad didn’t feel right. He can’t pinpoint it, but for some reason, her pining after that tall charmer of a twenty two year old makes him feel...angry. And he doesn’t like it.   
His phone dings, and he knows it’s MJ. She’s worried about him, he knows. 

MJ: You’re okay, right?

yeah

MJ: You seemed off. I don’t know what it is, but I hope I didn’t do anything to upset you. You’d tell me, right?

yeah, m. I would. stop worrying 

MJ: Ok. You should come by tomorrow. 

ok. i’ll be by around 6

He runs a hand through his hair, tugging it a bit, an anxious tick that tells him that going by her place where they’d probably end up doing something sexual wasn’t the best thing for his mindset. He doesn’t care, though. As off putting as this feeling is, this arrangement is better. So why fuck it up because of some instinctive, but platonic, jealousy issues? No, he’s definitely going to MJ’s tomorrow, and he’s gonna enjoy it. Don’t fuck this up, Peter. 

***

Michelle downs her water bottle the second she gets home from her last class. Peter had texted her and said he was gonna leave in twenty minutes, which means she has, at maximum, half an hour to get ready for whatever they’re gonna try tonight. She’d tried thinking of what she wanted them to practice, but she knew that if it was too planned, it wouldn’t be as fun, or as beneficial. She decided to play it by ear as soon as he agreed to come over, and she’d been anxious in both of her three hour lectures today. 

She stalks toward her underwear drawer, fumbling through it before stopping at a lacy black set she’d bought with the VS gift card that Liz got her for her twentieth birthday. At the time, she’d thought it was dumb, because Liz knew she wasn’t a lingerie person, but she’d insisted that “sexy underwear empowers women, MJ! it ties into your whole ‘strong, independent badass’ complex, and it makes you feel hot.” So to humor her, she’d gotten the first set she’d laid eyes on. Now, it feels almost laughable that the set is literally perfect for the situation she’s about to be in. She rolls her eyes in imaginary defeat, and grabs the set out of the drawer. 

***

Peter knocks, once again, on the shitty front door and almost instantly, a freshened up MJ opens it, letting him into the apartment. She’s wearing his fucking t-shirt and a scrap of fabric he’d barely call shorts, and he’s cursing himself for her outfit being the first thing he’s noticing. Get it together. 

“Hey! Uh, do you want some tea?”

“Hot chocolate.” He manages. 

“I- oh, you want…”

“No, I mean, I brought you some. Hot chocolate. I brought you a new kind, I think it’s—“ he reads the label quickly. “Hazelnut.” 

She grins, taking the can out of his hands. “You’re too kind,” she teases, reaching up to place the hazelnut cocoa on her fridge and taking the caramel mocha in return. “Here, make some for yourself, I’m gonna be deciding which Star Wars to cure your weird mopiness with.” 

He smiles softly, watching her head towards her media console before flipping through her movie case. He’s quick to prepare his cocoa, then takes her favorite tea out of her pantry and gets that ready too.

After he’s done, he carries the hot mugs carefully towards the sofa where she’s currently flicking through Disney+, determined to find the perfect sci-fi movie. 

“MJ?” Peter asks timidly, handing her the piping hot tea. 

She takes the mug from him happily and glances at him. “Thanks, Pete. What is it?”

Silence. 

She turns her full attention to him now. “You okay?” 

“Uh, yeah,” he stammers. “What, um, how was your date?”

“Awesome.” She grins, taking a moment to sip her tea as she fans it cutely with her hand. “He’s great, Peter. I think you’d like him.”

He manages a laugh, partly on her behalf and partly because the very thought of liking Brad Davis is amusing to him. But he can’t tell her that, because she’d take it the wrong way. Almost like she’d think he has feelings for her, or something. Which is equally as amusing. 

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s great.”

“What about Felicia?”

He sighs heavily. “She came over, we started hooking up, and then she left.”

MJ giggles. It’s a wonderful sound. “There’s no way that’s the whole story. What happened, loser?”

He hesitates, flicking his gaze between her hazel eyes. Looking down quickly, he recounts as much of the failed hookup as he can without giving his weird, off-putting mindset away. “She came over, and was, like, really forward about it. And before you say it—“ he holds a hand up, chuckling at finding her indeed about to interrupt, “I know that’s the reason I invited her over. But she was being, like, really forward. Like kissing my boxers the second we sat down. I just didn’t feel ready for that, or something.” He glances over again to find her laughing quietly. “Em, cmon, we both know I’d bust in literally thirty seconds. I couldn’t do that in front of Felicia. Half the campus would know about it by Monday!”

MJ nods thoughtfully. “She’s the kiss-and-tell type. I know what you mean.” 

They fall quiet for a few seconds, each sipping their respective comfort beverages. “You know,” MJ remarks. “I could help you with that.”

Peter’s confused. “With what?”

“I could help you practice not busting a nut in under a minute.” She replies bluntly. 

He’s choking on the large gulp of cocoa he’s decided to down at the wrong second. He stands up quickly to grab paper towels, dabbing at his shirt where some of the cocoa spilled hurriedly. She follows him to the kitchen and waits, amused, for him to calm down, coughing sporadically before speaking again. “That’s what we’re doing, right? And if you’re worried about it…” she trails off, leaving the last part of the sentence implied. 

Peter nods, internally kicking himself for giving into this again, but this was their plan the entire time, right? To practice? He’s only punishing himself if he opts out. MJ’s fine either way. Plus, he’d like to imagine a scenario in which a hookup with Felicia goes smoothly; without embarrassment. So he agrees. 

And the next thing he knows, she’s kissing him. God, he missed this. Her lips are even softer than last time, and as his hands immediately reach up to thread themselves in her hair, all he can think about is how on earth he ever thought twice about this. He breaks away from her tantalizing lips to kiss her neck, sucking on her earlobe as an airy moan vibrates against his. 

After a minute, he can tell she’s getting impatient as she pulls away stubbornly. They look at each other for a moment, breathing hard, before she grips the hem of her (his) shirt and lifts it off her torsos, revealing black lace, and all Peter can do is stare and try hopelessly to catch his breath. She starts kissing down his clothed chest, already handsy with the cotton, and drops to her knees on the kitchen mat. “Take off your fucking shirt.” She pants, causing him to laugh at the frustration in her voice. “It’s getting in the way,” she reasons. 

The second he’s done flinging his shirt across the counter, she goes straight for his sweatpants. Jerking them down best she can, she looks up at him almost with a look of hesitance. “Are you sure?” She asks quietly. “We don’t have to. I know you didn’t want to last time, and I don’t want to make you feel like you have —“ 

“Em.” He stops her, caressing her face softly. “Stop. I want this.” 

She nods, smiling softly up at him before carefully lowering the joggers. Neither of them bothering to take the article off completely, she lightly kisses the front of the cotton, where his bulge feels like it’s about to explode if she doesn’t do that again. As if she’s reading his mind, she does, this time placing an open-mouthed kiss to his clothed tip. He involuntarily squeezes his eyes shut, the image of her on her knees combined with the sensation of her tongue — even through the fabric — already bringing him close to the edge. 

Her hands come up to the sides of his underwear, cautiously sliding it down his toned thighs. Her look of surprise isn’t hidden very well, and Peter makes sure his eyes are open to see it. There’s no way it’s appropriate to feel pride right now...but he does. 

“It’s my first time doing this, too.” She whispers. “I know you knew that, I just...I might suck at this.” 

He shakes his head quickly. “You’re not gonna suck.”

“Yeah, I will,” MJ smirks, before reaching up to wrap her hand around the base of his dick. 

“Michelle,” he breathes. But nothing can prepare him for the feeling of her tongue, base to tip, before she pumps him slowly. He watches, pained, as she wraps her lips around his cock, bobbing her head a couple times tentatively. Gaining confidence, her hand starts to stroke the part of him that her mouth can’t reach, aiding her lips as her motions turn from anxious to cocky. 

***

Michelle hears his stuttering moans above her, and all she’s thinking about is how she’d like to this again. And again, and again. Nothing compares to the way this makes her feel — confident, powerful, like some kind of sex goddess that was made to torture Peter specifically. Though she knows her movements aren’t experienced, she doubts he cares, or even notices, if his erratic breathing is anything to go by. He reaches down with both hands to tangle his fingers in her hair again (his new favorite spot, she knows). In reaction to a certain hollowing of her cheeks, he accidentally pulls her hair aggressively and thrusts into her mouth, causing her to let out a lengthy moan around him. She knows he feels it the second he curses louder than usual and tips over the edge. 

The first guilty thought MJ has: that shit is nasty. She doesn’t enjoy the immediate taste that’s suddenly being introduced to her tongue, but then she looks up at Peter as he’s gripping her hair and moaning her name.

Her next not-so-guilty thought: never mind. 

If the weird taste and, ew, aftertaste that Peter’s orgasm causes was the price to pay for that kind of reaction, she’d never complain about it. She decides she’d like to see it again. And soon. He’s beautiful, she thinks. 

Her best friend, Peter. 

She wipes her mouth hastily before taking his outstretched hand and letting him pull her to her feet. The look of awe on his face is almost embarrassing — praise isn’t something she’s used to. Before she can think to let any bashfulness show, he’s pulling her towards him and kissing her relentlessly. 

After a moment, he pulls back, running a hand through his messy curls. “Uh, thank you. Thanks. Is that what I’m supposed to say? That was awesome. You’re awesome.” 

She grins. “You kissed me.” 

He looks confused. “Y-yeah?”

“You just nut in my mouth and then kissed me,” she bursts into a fit of giggles. 

He sighs. “God, Em, you’re so crude.” But then he’s laughing with her. 

If the next thing he does is spend time with his fingers inside her, trying his best to make it up to her, that’s simply nobody’s business but their own. 

***

MJ starts to fall asleep that night, troubled at the fact that not having strings attached was getting a bit too complicated. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but she finds Peter in those daydreams that she tries desperately to replace with Brad. It doesn’t work. It never did, in the first place. And that is where anxiety leaves her, drifting off into an unwanted, confusing place of dread and simultaneous hope.


	5. benched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How did you know that you were in love with Betty?” 
> 
> Ned scoffs for a second, assuming he’s joking. When Peter keeps his eyes on the closed book, he realizes that it’s a serious question. “Uh, why?” 
> 
> “I dunno. Curiosity.” He mumbles. 
> 
> “This doesn’t have anything to do with MJ, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m SO sorry this is so short - this week has been really rough, but the next chapter will be hefty and detailed I promise!! love you all xx
> 
> Please leave comments!! They fuel and motivate writers to no end :)

Peter grasps his textbook nervously, looking over at Ned in apprehension. “Ned?” He asks quietly. 

His friend is scribbling furiously on his notebook, barely taking the time to glance up at Peter. “What?” He replies. When Peter doesn’t reply, Ned finally sets the worn out pen down and sits up. “You okay?”

“How did you know that you were in love with Betty?” 

Ned scoffs for a second, assuming he’s joking. When Peter keeps his eyes on the closed book, he realizes that it’s a serious question. “Uh, why?” 

“I dunno. Curiosity.” He mumbles. 

“This doesn’t have anything to do with MJ, right?”

Defensively, Peter shoots him a dirty look. “What? No, of course not!”

Ned sighs. “Well, to answer your question, I guess I knew when…” he thinks for a moment. “When being with her, no matter what we were doing, was the best part of my day.” He laughs in memory. “I actually remember the exact moment I knew. It’s crazy. We were on this date that she’d set up, this picnic — you know Betty — and for a second, I literally couldn’t find a reason to be anything but happy. Because it was Betty.”

There was silence on Peter’s end. Ned turns to him in concern. “Does that help?”

“Yeah,” he mutters. 

“You’re in love with MJ.” Ned states matter-of-factly. 

“No, no, I’m not.”

“Yeah you are. The funny thing is, you’ve been in love with her since we were, like, sixteen. And you, being the dumbass you are, are just now coming to that realization.”

Peter can’t think of anything to say, so he just stares at his best friend dumbfoundedly. “You’re wrong.” He finally manages. 

“No,” Ned chuckles. “No, I’m not.” 

“God, Peter. Do you need some evidence? Some proof to back up your hypothesis? Why’d you even ask me that question?”

“Because I-“

“Because you knew. You’re not ready to admit it, but you knew. These last few weeks have been really confusing for me, man. I think this is the happiest yet most conflicted I’ve ever seen you. And I’ve known you since first grade. C’mon, dude.” Ned slaps his shoulder. 

Peter hesitates for a second. “Our...arrangement...wasn’t supposed to involve feelings.”

“Did you say that? Or did she?”

Peter thinks back to the first time they’d made out. It occurs to him that actually, they hadn’t discussed it, that they’d gone straight to booking up and had never talked about any rules. “It’s implied.” He finally forces out. 

“You see, it’s not.” Ned smirks. “You two have been dancing around each other for years now, and it’s been torture for me.”

“We haven’t—“ he stops, seeing the look on Ned’s face. “Do you think she feels the same way?”

“That’s not for me to say.” He replies. “I think you need to talk to her.” 

***

“No hot chocolate this time?” MJ grins. “This must be serious.”

“It is, Em-“ 

“By the way, we usually plan this sort of thing out, you know. I didn’t have time to get ready or anything when you told me you were five minutes away.”

“This isn’t about sex, Em.” 

“Really? Then what is it? I have something to tell you too.” She looks excited.

“What is it?”

“You first. But it’s about Brad!” She exclaims. 

Peter feels his heart drop to his stomach, and beat there seemingly 500 times per second. “What about him?”

“Me first? Okay. He asked me out again!” She does sarcastic jazz hands with a grin on her face. 

Peter feels his heart go from his stomach to his feet, in pieces. “Oh.” 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing. I’m so happy for you, MJ.” 

“Thanks, man. Apparently we’re going to Central Park; I told him I liked picnics and he planned this whole thing.” She springs into detail about her recent conversation with the man that Peter unfairly holds such a grudge against. As he listens to her, he almost feels...made of glass, in a way, like a vase being thrown against a wall and shattered. 

She doesn’t feel the same way. 

Of course she doesn’t. He knew this. The whole point of their arrangement was so that she could gain experience for Brad. It was about him in the first place. And he’s so fucking stupid for believing otherwise. 

She finishes up her story and puts a hand on his knee. “Your turn.” 

“Oh! Oh, uh, I was just wondering if I left my...my belt here.”

She looks surprised. “I thought you said this was serious. I haven’t seen any of your belts around, but you can look if you want.” 

“No, I’m, I’m okay. Gotta be going, though!” He hurries towards her front door. “Bye, Em!”

The last thing he hears is a tentative, confused “Bye, Pete,” before he shuts the door behind him. 

He was fucked.

**Author's Note:**

> leave comments & kudos if you enjoyed! xxx


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